


Journey To The Forbidden City

by tuanpark



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient China, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Joseon, Alternate Universe - Joseon Era, Fantasy, Historical, I will be calling him Minhyung, Joseon, M/M, War General Mark Lee, i meant it's not really fantasy but you'll see what i mean, if you are here solely for the gay I'm not sure this is the fic for you :(, it sounds unusual to use Mark in Joseon, joseon era, rated General for now but will switch to mature/explicit depending on violence and/or love-making
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28635903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuanpark/pseuds/tuanpark
Summary: When General Lee woke up, head pounding and the taste of wine decaying in his mouth, he did not expect to embark on a mission to a country across the vast waters that same day. Knowing he could not succeed alone, General Lee employed the help of his associates and, in a couple of unavoidable cases, strangers.But when the time comes for him to pick between forgiveness and dignity, will he choose himself or the love he lost in the Forbidden City?
Relationships: ???/???, Mark Lee/???, Na Jaemin/Park Jisung
Kudos: 8





	1. The Day of the Stolen Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my fic! I've been wanting to write NCT set in Joseon Era. I have a few chapters finished already, but please comment and kudos! It will keep me motivated to finish the story.

There were three things that The Great Joseon Country was known for.

One was the beauty of their Princes, and The Great Joseon Country possessed two: the Crown Prince, who was appointed as heir to the throne, and the Grand Prince who was the son of the king and queen consort, not entitled.

The Crown Prince was as strict as they came. There were a set of rules that he lived by: Always be on time. Respect the elders. Take responsibility for his actions. And do whatever it takes to preserve the safety of his people. He would often be found training at the campgrounds, sparring with one of his close military acquaintances to sharpen his physical combat skills. Or at the large Royal Library, with stacks and stacks of books and scrolls by his side, studying ceaselessly the history and the law of the land. And attending council meetings, either observing how the King would carry out the assembly or holding the meeting himself.

There was one exception to these rules though, and that was his love for his dear brother, the Grand Prince. It was a grand name for a grand boy, suitable since everything he said and did embodied his grandeur. Even from the beginning, he was a miracle. Born five winters after his elder brother, the Grand Prince had come out of the womb with labored breathing during midsummer. For a fortnight, he barely shed tears or nursed from his mother’s breast, far from standard compared to other infants. The healers had warned The Royal Family that the newborn prince would not make it past summer’s end. It wasn’t until the first moon cycle had passed that the Grand Prince finally made a fuss, and it was a cry that signified the baby was alive and well. It was nearly impossible, a one in a million chance according to the healers. And so it became word that although the Grand Prince was no god, he was deemed as magical as such.

Unlike the Crown Prince, the Grand Prince lived by only one rule. And that rule was _There are no rules_. Like his elder brother, the Grand Prince would often be found at the campgrounds. However, he did not train for combat, but rather shamelessly ogled at the soldiers practicing there. Not including the times his mentor forced him to study, not once had he ever visited the Royal Library, but it seemed he had garnered a vast knowledge of all topics from simply conversing with as many people as he could. His first few times observing council meetings, he had not been able to hold his tongue, and since then he had been banned from participating in the assembly.

Despite their differences, they were as beautiful as each other. And just like their personalities, their attractive features were not at all the same. Everything about the Crown Prince was sharp everywhere, with his sharp cheekbones, sharp chin, and even a sharp Adam’s apple. He had an oval face with thick, straight eyebrows above almond-shaped eyes. His high nose was a good complement to his perfect Cupid’s bow. It was an icy allure that bewitched many citizens of Joseon.

It was also a direct contrast to the Grand Prince’s warm beauty. Unlike the Crown Prince, much of the younger’s facial features were rounded. The sharpest things about him were his wit and his tongue. He sported a heart-shaped face with heart-shaped lips and sunkissed skin. His hair was not pure black but a woody brown. And like the browns of his hair, his round eyes were a deep amber. As sweet as his features, his voice held a distinct honey-like texture when he sang, enchanting the residents of Joseon with his vocal prowess and his summer beauty.

One of those bewitched residents was Lee Minhyung.

Many people around the East had heard of the beautiful princes of Joseon, and about just as many had caught wind of the rising general. Lee Minhyung, though still young, had gathered quite a following after helping chase out the Eastern invaders during the Imjin Disturbance1. And again after being promoted General, during the Chongyu War in which the Eastern invaders had surrendered after limited progress on land and continued disruption of supply lines by the Joseon navy.

Of course, none of that was possible if not for the Ming Dynasty from across the West who had continually supplied them with soldiers to push back the Easterners from the peninsula. The Imjin War had ended with success from the Ming Empire and The Great Joseon Country. Though this is, there had been talks of how much of the Ming Empire’s resources were depleted by the war, but none of Joseon, the Easterners, or the Westerners had made move to invade the Ming Empire during the most challenging time of their dynasty.

Though Lee Minhyung had yet to experience three decades in this world, he had grown old all the same.

War did that.

Along with the princes and the fearsome general, the third thing Joseon was known for were the spectacular feasts they held to celebrate the Royal Family. During these bouts, the Royal Palace would open its doors to many of its citizens. The celebrations would start from the lower ground where a parade would precede the King and His relatives in drum beats and dancings. The Royal Family would greet the people as they were showered with rose petals and grains of rice, and this continued all the way to the entrance of the Royal Palace. Bright lanterns were hung in lines from tower to tower, illuminating the court in a golden glow. Entertainers wearing vivid colors would display their talents as the Royal Family and members of the State Council would eat and watch from their tables, offering their attention and applause to the performers. Generally, the festivities would be alive until the bell tolled at midnight. Beginning at sunset, The Royal Family and the government officials would consume jars and jars of wine until the bell rang.

Nobody took advantage of this more than the Grand Prince who possessed a particular affinity to wines of all kinds—milky rice wine, clear rice wine, and of course wine made from chrysanthemum blossoms.

And tonight was not an exception.

“You need to relax,” the Grand Prince urged, rubbing both of Minhyung’s shoulders. “How about some wine? To soothe the nerves.”

“Like I said the last time you offered, Donghyuck, I cannot,” he countered. To Minhyung, the Grand Prince was just Donghyuck. Anyone else who used the prince’s real name would be sentenced to some form of light punishment. By the prince, no less. “It will not be wise to be under the influence if the rest of the soldiers are also drunk. Who else would take care of the people if we happen to be under attack?”

“Yes, please, do be a spoilsport,” Donghyuck rolled his eyes. That was the thing about the younger prince. If there was anyone who exhibited the slightest bit of apprehension at the prince’s actions, they will be immediately dismissed. Minhyung had noticed this more times than he could count. After all, they had known each other since they were children.

Minhyung’s parents were of noble descent and had a good influence over the court as they were in the Ministry of Taxation. As such, Minhyung spent much of his time in the palace as his father attended meetings and his mother loitered around in giggles behind decorative folding fans. Rather than holding him back from befriending the prince, his parents had actually encouraged him to do so.

If there was one thing that Minhyung remembered from his parent’s teachings, it was that _Friendship breeds Trust. Trust begets Control. Control generates Power. And Power is everything._

Consequently, Minhyung learned from his parents that power (and the idea of power) had a proclivity to seduce people to desire more of it. And Minhyung refused to be like them. His friendship with Donghyuck was nothing close to the quest for power his parents were so obviously lost in.

“Apologies if being a smart, honorable soldier equates to being a spoilsport,” he sighed.

“Goodness, you’re dramatic. Whatever happened to the Minhyung who would engage in top-spinning with me under the blistering sun? Or the Minhyung who flew his kite in the fields to distract ourselves from the cold winter?”

“I’ve matured.”

“You mean you’ve grown old and boring,” Donghyuck pointed out, giggling. Even though they were only born a winter apart, the younger still managed to tease him about his age relentlessly.

“I’ve not grown boring,” he muttered.

It was a touchy subject.

“If that’s so, then why do you have an empty cup?” Donghyuck wiggled his eyebrows.

Minhyung had always been weak to the prince’s advances, had spent most of his time at the mercy of Donghyuck’s large personality. This was evident in their younger years, when he convinced Minhyung to go to the kitchen with him to steal some extra mooncakes, even when Minhyung knew it was wrong. In their teenage years, when Donghyuck persuaded him to dip into the icy water naked as the day he was born. And now, as he looked at Minhyung with mischief bright in his eyes.

“If I take one drink, will you stop bothering me about it?”

The grin the prince sent his way was unnerving to say the least. Minhyung had always been easily conquered by the prince, never even posing a challenge. And so one drink had turned to two, two drinks became four, and it kept increasing until Minhyung had lost count of how many cups he had taken.

He was properly warm now, heat pooling in his stomach and coloring his cheeks. The world was moving despite how he tried his utmost to stay still. Red in the face with too much alcohol running in his bloodstream, the Grand Prince had hung onto Minhyung’s shoulders for support as they laughed the night away, much to the glares and scowls from some of the government officials.

Most vocal of the night was Minister Ahn from the Ministry of Personnel.

“How indecent,” Minister Ahn had grouched from the back. Though Minhyung could not see him, he could recognize that scratchy voice anywhere. Had heard him berate the servants more often than not. “A prince of Joseon should never act so unbecoming of his title.”

“Let the Grand Prince be,” Minister Kim goaded the elder. “He is young and carefree. Let him have his fill of life before it becomes bombarded with duties.”

And Minister Yang from the Ministry of Rites.

“Young?” he scoffed. Minister Yang’s high-pitched voice was the type to grate the ears of anybody in his general vicinity. He let out a humorless laugh and added haughtily to Minister Ahn’s remarks. “This winter is to be his twenty-second! His actions are unsuitable for a prince, never mind a king! I, for one, am beyond glad that the Crown Prince had never acted so improperly in front of his subjects. Imagine what the citizens of Joseon would think!”

Minhyung had nearly stood up from where he sat but was stopped by the hand on his arm.

“Don’t pay them any attention,” Donghyuck uttered. “You will just make matters worse for yourself.”

The general scoffed. “It is not about me. My anger stems from the disrespect they hurl at you. Does it not bother you that they talk bad behind your back?”

The prince hummed. “I’m sure they’ll get what they deserve. Karma has always been a sneaky, little devil,” he commented. It was a peculiar thought. And before Minhyung could reply, the prince handed him another cup. “Let’s not worry ourselves over old geezers whose hairs have grown thinner than their voices. Instead, tell me how this honeysuckle-flavored wine tastes. Commissioned it myself!”

Minhyung sighed but gulped the wine down nonetheless.

When the bell had struck midnight, the festivities were announced to end. Darkness had already filled the sky, and there was too much potential danger waiting in the shadows. Being the gallant gentleman that he was, Minhyung offered to accompany Donghyuck on the way to his room, but the prince had never been one to ask for assistance. Had always been an I’ll-do-it-myself kind of person, an admirable trait only when the time was right. Minhyung figured they adopted each other’s stubbornness in this regard.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to me tonight,” Donghyuck smiled softly. “If anything, I think it’s you who might need accompanying. You can barely walk straight!”

“My walking is _-hicc-_ perfectly fine.”

“Yes, yes,” Donghyuck continued. “Now go perfectly walk your way to your house. It is past midnight.”

“But-”

“That’s an order,” Donghyuck stared at him with glass eyes. Typical of him to pull rank during times like this.

“At once, _Daegam_.”

He managed a few steps before Donghyuck called again.

“Minhyung,” he said, an almost-whisper in the night. The general looked back over his shoulder and noted the straight posture of the Grand Prince. Donghyuck’s eyes were familiar crescents when he said, “I shall see you where the sun sets.”

Did the prince mean when the sun rises? He giggled. In any case, Minhyung gave a bow and bid the prince good night.

After a minute or so, Minhyung found that Donghyuck was right, as he usually was. Walking proved to be quite the challenge, and he needed to apply all of his focus into putting each foot in front of the other lest he stumble and fall over. Once or twice, he nearly did but caught himself on luckily-placed objects. Stretching a fifteen-minute walk to a half-hour trek, he managed to reach his house without any accidents.

Despite his parents still being alive, he did not share living quarters with them. They had grown too far apart for that. Being a war general also meant he was given his own home by the Ministry of Personnel, complete with three rooms and a spacious yard.

He never did find any use for the extra rooms. The house was simply too big for him.

Unintentionally, he made a path of his clothes on the hallway as he relieved himself piece by piece, until he was shirtless and in front of his bedroom. As soon as he collapsed onto the thick blanket laid on the floor, Minhyung found sleep very enticing. And just before he fell into a deep slumber, he wondered why exactly he was so weak for the Grand Prince and if it will always be that way.

***

Waking up had never been a struggle for Minhyung, but Minhyung and alcohol never truly mixed well.

Before he even opened his eyes, he felt a headache threatening to split his skull. His stomach was boiling despite the chilly air. And even wrapped in his comforter, he could feel clearly on his shirtless torso the harsh sting of the cold, winter morning.

The sun had barely peeked from the horizon when he heard the clamor of the gate opening and closing. Instincts tingling, Minhyung immediately sat up and was about to stand when the pain in his head became so saturated that he saw white. From outside, he could hear the quick footsteps on the wooden floors approaching him. He was getting ready to lunge for his sword when the door slid open with a creaky bang.

“General Lee!” Jisung ‘s beady voice punctured the air, a manic look in his eyes. Jisung was Minhyung’s self-proclaimed protege, following his footsteps in combat and aiming to be a general himself. Minhyung had always advised Jisung against this though, since the younger man held too much goodness in his heart. Also, his combat skills were mediocre at best, but that was neither here nor there. Whatever flame of innocence he possessed would be blown out by the brutal winds of war. However, no warmth could be found in his voice when he said, “There has been an incident.”

The general’s grip on his blanket tightened. The younger man’s breathing was labored. His fists made a rattling noise against the wooden door where they shook uncontrollably. Minhyung was almost too afraid to ask. Out by the terrace, a bird took flight in a flurry of feathers.

“What incident?” Minhyung gulped. 

“It’s the Grand Prince!” Jisung exclaimed, dousing Minhyung with icy water. “He’s missing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Footnotes**   
>  _1\. Imjin Disturbance: Imjin Disturbance (or Imjin War) refers to the two Japanese invasions of Korea between 1592-1598. The first was attempt was in 1592 before a brief truce was set in 1596. Then another attempt in 1597 (Chongyu War). The conflict ended with the withdrawal of the Japanese forces after a military stalemate before ultimately resulting in Joseon-Korean and Ming-Chinese victory and the expulsion of Japan from the peninsula._
> 
> ***
> 
> I would really appreciate kudos, comments, or any feedback. I have a few chapters finished already, but please comment and kudos! It will keep me motivated to finish the story.
> 
> Also, should I keep Mark as Minhyung or changed him to Mark? I just feel weird using the name Mark in Joseon.


	2. The Assembly of the Retrieval Unit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyung enlists the help of a few people.

“It’s the Grand Prince!” Jisung exclaimed, dousing Minhyung with icy water. “He’s missing!”

Dread froze Minhyung. How could this be? Donghyuck hadn’t been far from The Grand Suite.

“How?”

“We assume he has been taken hostage, and I am not to mention this to anyone but you,” Jisung’s eyes were wide as he answered. He paused, scratched his cheek in thought, and then pulled out a scroll from the sleeves of his _hanbok 2_. “In addition to that, I have been ordered to deliver a message.”

At this Minhyung perked up. With a struggle, he catapulted himself to the younger man and received the letter from him. As soon as he took it, Minhyung felt the heavy weight of jade pull his hand lower.

The seal was that of a roaring tiger.

Minhyung gasped. “It’s from the Crown Prince.”

Jisung nodded in confirmation. And Minhyung began to read.

_General Lee_

_As soon as this message is received,_ _  
__meet me at The Royal Chamber._ _  
__Burn this scroll._  
 _Do not bring another._ _  
_Beware of being followed.

What did the Crown Prince want with him? Was he to receive punishment for leaving the Grand Prince alone? Was he to be flayed for being the indirect cause of the prince’s disappearance? Whichever the case, he felt that this meeting would end in no good.

Minhyung hurried to the closet and hastily put on his clothes.

“When did you receive this message?”

“Just right now,” Jisung replied proudly. “I got here as fast as I could.”

“Great. Stay here until I come back,” he demanded, sliding his arms through his armor and clasping it before grabbing his sword and fixing his _gat 3_.

“But- why must I stay put?”

“That’s an order,” Minhyung commanded with a point of his finger. When the younger man nodded halfheartedly, Minhyung ripped the parchment off of the jade binding and lit it on fire with one of the incenses available. The last thing he heard as he left his home were the grumblings of his protege.

The streets were not as busy as he figured it would be. Or as frantic.

The calmness of the people was a direct contrast to the calamity raging inside him. Why were the citizens not distraught that their prince had possibly been taken hostage? Or worse! Why were they continuing everyday life as if nothing had gone wrong? Unless… Were the residents not made aware of the prince’s situation?

Minhyung bit his lip as he provided the people with quick, curt nods instead of the usual morning conversations. Despite the prince’s warnings, Minhyung did not notice anyone following him as he speed-walked to The Royal Palace. 

Though he had never been to The Royal Chamber, Minhyung knew that it was housed right next to the main hall of the palace. Quickly, he approached the room and bowed to the royal guards standing there.

“My name is General Lee,” he introduced himself, showing the guards the official seal of his rank. “I am here to meet with the Crown Prince at his request.”

After inspecting the insignia, the guards bowed and opened the doors for him.

Inside was as beautiful as it was traditional. On the windows hung _muryeomja 4_, cultural curtains that filtered the sunlight passing through them, bringing in a good amount of light while maintaining minimal heat. The wooden floors shone as if they had been recently waxed. Gold, tiger-print paper decorated the walls, matching the covers of books that were stored on a shelf in the corner. Furniture was finished with a deep scarlet, coordinating with the reds of the supporting posts and other traditional structures in the room. Up above, a gorgeous bronze chandelier was left unlit, thereby creating a shadow on the Crown Prince where he stood by the window.

The Crown Prince’s back was broad and regal.

“General Lee,” he called. His voice was commanding, and Minhyung felt the need to keep his back ramrod straight. When the Crown Prince turned around, he felt the air leave his lungs. Adorning the prince’s body was a _hanbok_ as dark as midnight. A large, golden tiger crest was stitched on the center of the chest as well as onto each sleeve. Wrapped around his waist was the royal girdle, golden and shiny and supporting the sword he had housed by his side. His hair was done in a _sangtu 5_, and a long, black pin held the topknot in place. Though his eyes carried an icy gloss, his smile was warm when he said, “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“It is my pleasure, _Jeoha_ ,” Minhyung claimed, courteously bowing at the prince.

“I take it you have been informed of the Grand Prince’s status by your… squire, is it?”

Huh. Yeah, Jisung was sort of his squire. 

“Yes, _Jeoha_ ,” he affirmed. Minhyung bent forwards at a right angle, and like a dam bursting, couldn’t stop his words as soon as he started speaking. “I apologize for not having performed my duty as a general. I should have accompanied him to The Grand Suite. I should have made certain he was safe on the way back to his room. I accept full responsibility for the disappearance of the Grand Prince. Please punish me accordingly.”

A surprised laugh erupted from the royal. “Do not be ridiculous! Rise, General!”

The hardness of the prince’s voice took over Minhyung as he rose and faced him once more. “I am not to be punished?”

“No,” the Crown Prince reassured him. “I require your presence because…. I have something important to ask of you.”

The Crown Prince turned his back to him then, hands behind his back, head tilted as if he was watching the sky. “You may refuse if you like, but you are the only one I can entrust this to.”

Something important to ask of him? What was it that would be entrusted to Minhyung? And why him of all people?

“What is it, _Jeoha_?”

“Before I get to that, I need to know what happened last night,” the Crown Prince mentioned as he made way to the wooden table and sat down.

It was ornate and ancient-looking and Minhyung couldn’t stop staring at it when he replied. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much due to the wine.”

“I figured as much,” the prince admitted. He presented the teapot resting on the center of the table and brought out two little cups. “Perhaps some tea to jog your memory?”

Minhyung sighed, nodded, took a seat across the prince, and drank. He recalled what he could, explained what he needed to explain, that he and the Grand Prince were both properly intoxicated, and how Minhyung was ordered to go home without accompanying him to The Grand Suite.

“He pulled rank on you? Interesting,” the Crown Prince commented, one hand tight on his porcelain cup while the other rubbed at his chin. “It almost sounded as if he had an idea of what was to occur… Did he mention anything else? Anything out of the blue? Something far from ordinary?”

Minhyung racked his brain. Had the younger prince said something else beyond that? There was that one thing. What was it? Something about sunset, maybe?

“Sunset?” the prince repeated. Had Minhyung said that out loud?

“Yes, _Jeoha._ He mentioned something about… how he shall see me where the sun sets.”

At this, the prince picked up his posture. “ _Where_? Are you absolutely positive he said _where_ and not _when_?”

Minhyung closed his eyes and imagined. A look back over the shoulders. Donghyuck standing, rigid, beautiful under the orange glow of the decorative lights. Crescent-eyed and smiling. Donghyuck never gave him that smile other than the times he had to distract him or keep a secret. All the signs were there. They were present and Minhyung had failed to notice. 

“Yes, _Jeoha_ ,” the general confirmed, breathless. “He said where.”

“Then ready yourself, General,” the Crown Prince ordered and got to his feet. Minhyung mirrored his actions and puffed out his chest when the Crown Prince looked him in the eye. “I know who has taken my brother.”

The Crown Prince settled a hand on Minhyung’s shoulder. The general’s knees almost buckled at the heaviness of it.

“And I need you to get him back.”

***

“No.”

“But Jeno, listen-”

“No! That’s- that’s barbaric,” Jeno declared. “What he is sending you on is not a mission. It is suicide. And you are a fool for taking him up on his offer.”

Minhyung should have known. Jeno, though a winter younger than Minhyung, had always been the careful one. He was the type to be dependable and generally decisive. 

Even during the war, Minhyung saw the boy’s potential. It was in the way he led a group without being an official leader, quick to make a decision that would result in the least casualty. And the way he, in addition to being a reliable strongman, was also a good follower, able to carry out whatever task was given to him with little difficulty.

But what dominated over these characteristics was his loyalty, and that sense of allegiance extended from his family to his friends. Minhyung just happened to be one of those friends, though he supposed the term ‘friend’ was a little too casual for them. After all, Jeno was one of Minhyung’s subordinates during the Imjin War.

Minhyung was Jeno’s general, but with all the misfortunes they were met with while driving out Eastern invaders from the peninsula, leader and subordinate were words too formal for them. Their relationship hovered more around the term sworn brothers.

“But the Crown Prince is counting on me,” he revealed. _Assemble a team,_ he had instructed. _Small. Elite. No larger than five. Make haste and leave here before the sun sets._ It wasn’t only the future king of Joseon that counted on him. He, himself, was relying on his determination to reclaim Donghyuck. And Donghyuck as well… “And I think… I think the Grand Prince believes in me too.”

“You-” Jeno replied, marching towards the window with clenched fists. He settled his hands on the pane there, letting it support his weight as he looked out at the late morning sky. He then glanced back, shadows on his face as he said, “You cannot be completely certain of that.”

“Tell me, what should I do then? Stay here and do nothing? Refuse the Crown Prince of the mission he had given me? Leave my closest friend in the clutches of the enemy?” Minhyung growled. “I _need_ to do this.”

Jeno huffed. Minhyung could see the fight slowly draining away from him. “You do not _need_ to do anything.”

“I do,” he countered, stepping closer to the younger. “I do. If you knew him like I do, you would understand too.”

The soldier gave him a wary look and shook his head bitterly. “General. This mission is nearly impossible.”

“I know.” He does. Minhyung had known that agreeing to this mission meant near-certain death. He had figured that the chances of them successfully retrieving the Grand Prince was dangerously low. But that was exactly it. It wasn’t impossible, and if there was any small probability of saving Donghyuck, Minhyung would take it without a doubt. “Which is why I need your help. Jeno, I beg.”

And when the younger man bit his lip, Minhyung added, “The chances of me succeeding skyrockets if you’re by my side.”

Jeno became quiet for a few moments, contemplative. Minhyung could feel the sweat sliding down his cheeks. He figured he’d be able to hear a single raindrop if it were to begin pouring right now.

“Alright, but on one condition.”

“Anything! Anything. Name your price.”

“Do not die.”

It was a tall ask, but certainly not out of reach. Minhyung grabbed Jeno’s arm and shook it the way warriors did, strong and firm and by the elbow.

“I won’t.”

Getting the horses ready was finished in no time. Their teamwork was like that, fast and most efficient. They prepared Jeno’s stallions because they were younger and quicker than Minhyung’s. On the horses were gear that they deemed necessary for the road, weapons that can be carried, a couple of changes of clothes, and light-weighing food like salted dried seaweed and large flakes of bread. All that was left was to stop by Minhyung’s home and grab whatever necessities he required for the trip.

As soon as the general opened the wooden gate, a beady voice came to greet him.

“General Lee!” Jisung called. He was sitting on the raised platform of Minhyung’s house, looking weary under the early afternoon sun. “I was starting to get worried! You were gone for so long, I thought the Crown Prince might have taken you in or something.”

Crud. He had completely forgotten that he ordered Jisung to stand by. He tried to block the horses by closing the wooden gate, but Jeno was too fast and came trotting in with his magnificent stallion. The mere speed of it had surprised Jisung, who had fallen back with a squawk.

Hand on his heart, Jisung’s eyes flitted between Jeno and Minhyung before landing on the horses.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“No,” Minhyung answered. But Jisung had always been a curious boy, too much for his own good. Immediately, he was on his feet and inspecting the variety of items carried by the horses. Weapons, clothes, food. It was obvious they were prepared for traveling.

“You absolutely are going somewhere!” Jisung accused, pointing his finger right at Minhyung’s face. The elder pushed the offending hand away and shook his head.

“No, I’m not,” he lied, hurrying to his bedroom, but not without Jisung on his tail.

“Yes, you are.”

“No.” Minhyung slid his bedroom door open and began packing stuff for the trek. A couple of spare clothes, more than a couple of spare underwear, and his trusty wooden boomerang amongst other things.

“Take me with you!” Jisung tries once more.

“Absolutely not! This mission is dangerous, and I cannot have your blood on my hands.”

“B-But… But General, aren’t you always the one who told me to follow the path I desire? Wherever that may lead? Aren’t you always the one who told me to constantly challenge myself? To reach higher highs? And now that the opportunity presents itself in front me, you won’t even think about it?” Jisung was breathing hard now. “I am not a child anymore, General.”

Minhyung bit his lip. Jisung had definitely grown since he had taken him under his wing. He made a convincing case about the general always telling him to do more, be better. Jisung was an adult now, and though the general did not want Jisung to throw himself in danger, he had no say in what Jisung could and could not do.

“This is not a regular mission.” If he wouldn’t be able to convince Jisung, then this would be out of his hands. “It is serious and dangerous, and you need to know that you must be required to make sacrifices. Sacrifices could mean taking a person’s life or abandoning a teammate or worst yet being abandoned by them. Are you certain you are ready for that?”

Jisung swallowed. Minhyung didn’t blame him. Even the thought of having to leave subordinates, or having subordinates leave him—it brought a chill along Minhyung’s spine that no winter or darkness ever could.

“No,” Jisung admitted. “But I won’t know until I try, will I?”

“I will let you come along under the condition that you will do whatever I command,” Minhyung declared. “If I order you to run and save yourself, you run and save yourself. If I tell you to leave me behind so that you may carry out the mission, you do exactly that. Are we clear?”

“But General, I- Abandoning you sounds-”

“Jisung, your word?”

A moment of silence passed. Jeno averted his eyes. The youngest’s eyes flitted left and right as if to check Minhyung’s for any room of compromise.

Finding his answer, Jisung bit his lip and assured, “You have my word.”

They made a stop at Jisung’s residence, the youngest gathering supplies that he found necessary for the journey before they took off north to the dense forests of Gimpo. Apparently, Jeno had caught wind of a man who possessed a supernatural talent that was considered by many to be sorcerous and was once an inhabitant of the Capital of The Great Joseon Country, _Hanseong 6_, until he was chased out due to his mystical abilities.

“And you are positive he will join arms with us?”

“I am uncertain as he can be indifferent and borderline selfish,” Jeno claimed, the ground crunching under his horse’s hooves. “Perhaps we can use that to our advantage.”

“I hope you are correct about this.”

A gentle breeze passed them by in a caress. From the back, Jisung could be heard conversing with his horse, petting its mane as he gave it words of encouragement. It seemed he was concerned with the distance of travel by the horse, but it hadn’t even been more than 40 kilometers since they started their expedition.

“Are we getting close?” Jisung inquired out of the blue.

Jeno nodded. “Nearly there.”

It seemed ‘nearly there’ meant just past the large hill in sight because as soon as they trotted over the slope and began their descent, the man’s place of residence was already easy to spot. Surrounded by tall oaks and alders was a rounded hut whose wooden walls were made of stacks of logs held together by who knew what. Protruding from its moss-strewn dome was a chimney-like structure that exhausted clouds of smoke. Someone was home.

“Stay here and mind the horses,” Minhyung ordered Jisung as he and Jeno jumped off their horses. Jisung did not look too elated but accepted their horses by the reins anyway and tied them around alder trunks in a fit of grumbles.

With a nod, Jeno entered first and Minhyung followed.

An herbal aroma wafted around them as soon as they stepped inside. There were no lamps to light up the setting, but enough sunlight from the retreating sun had filtered through to make everything visible. Each step was met with a creak underfoot. The rickety chair on the corner was empty. A woven basket of scallions, radishes, and parsley sat on the table, next to a wooden bowl of potatoes, onions and heads of garlic. In the kitchen, or what Minhyung assumed to be the kitchen, stood a man whose back faced them.

“Took you long enough,” he said in lieu of a greeting, turning around to reveal a handsomeness that the general only saw once in a hundred. His oval-shaped face housed what looked to be golden eyes, expressive eyebrows, and a natural smile. Clothed in a loose hanbok, he held up to his head a beetroot by the stem. “Beet soup?”

Jeno exchanged looks with the general. A moment passed by. Then two. 

“Perhaps another time,” Jeno answered decisively. “Are you the famed Sorcerer of Gimpo?”

A cackle erupted from the stranger. “A sorcerer? Is that what they call me now? I am no such thing—I simply have a peculiar relationship with nature.”

“If that is not to your liking, what may we call you?”

“You may call me the famed Sorcerer of Gimpo!” The man chirped happily. “I have taken a liking to it. Rolls easily off the lips.”

Jeno, who seemed not to be familiar with the stranger’s unusual persona, blinked. “And do you possess a name, Sorcerer of Gimpo?”

The stranger regarded both of them with his sharp, golden eyes. “My birth name is Jaemin. But use it sparingly such that my moniker will not reach the heart of Hanseong, or I will have no choice but to cut off your tongues.”

Minhyung gulped. He quite liked being able to taste his food.

“Well, Jae- err, Sorcerer of Gimpo, how did you know we were coming?” he asked. At this, the man grinned and set his items down. In a blink of an eye, he had entered Minhyung’s personal space.

“That is a very good question, General.” Jaemin began to examine him, circling him as he observed the little details of his person. “Would you believe me if I said the soil had informed me? That the wind had whispered of your journey? That the trees had announced your arrival?”

“I would,” Minhyung nodded. He didn’t express shock when the sorcerer had referred to him as General or when he was suddenly assaulted by the stranger’s nose sniffing the tailends of his hair. Instead, keeping his tone neutral, he questioned, “Is there a significance to what it is you’re doing?”

“I am attempting to inhale your aura,” Jaemin spoke in between breaths before moving onto Jeno to do the same. “To detect something extraordinary, discover something unique.”

Minhyung was almost certain that the sorcerer was only performing and was truly only smelling their hair. “Excuse my tactlessness, but we have little time for this. We came here to ask if you would accompany us on a mission.”

Jaemin turned to him like a hawk, eyes narrowed as he clasped his hands together. “And what are the details of this mission?”

“We must rescue the Grand Prince.”

A humorless laugh escaped the sorcerer’s lips. “And what can you offer me in exchange?”

“We have bags of coins, enough for you to live comfortably for a decade.”

“Why should I need fortune when all my resources are given to me by the earth?”

A drop of sweat had pooled on the general's eyebrow. “The Crown Prince can give you an official pardon and execute regulations such that the public cannot harm you should you choose to move back in Hanseong.”

“And why would I return to the city that threatened me for something I have no control over? I should think it unwise to step foot in that damned place ever again,” the sorcerer spat. He straightened his posture, crossed his arms, and smirked at Minhyung. “One last try, General. I would choose my options carefully if I were you.”

He realized then that he had to make sure to provide what the sorcerer wanted to receive. And there was only one way to know that for certain.

“What is it you want? The mission I will embark upon will require your phenomenal talents.”

The sorcerer gave a giggle. “You flatter me, General, but flattery will get you nowhere. There are very few things in this world that I desire. And if you cannot provide that which I-”

_Bang!_

The door had been shoved open. Wide-eyed and frantic, Jisung’s hair was wild and his attire disheveled. A small twig was caught on the browns of his hair, and his usually pale yellow _hanbok_ was heavily smudged with dirt.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, gesturing to the land outside. “I- the horses…”

“…” Jeno pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You were given _one_ task,” Mark scolded him. The streak of what looked like dry mud on Jisung’s cheek moved as he winced with each word.

“Ah! The third!” Jaemin took note, considering Jisung with a watchful eye as he stepped closer to the boy. “What is your name?”

“I’m- Whoa. Your eyes are pure gold,” Jisung replied, before remembering the question. Shaking his head, he rubbed the back of his neck, beamed at his inquirer, and answered, “My name is Park Jisung.”

The sorcerer took a slow, deep breath. His slightly chapped lips twitched as he turned to stare at Minhyung. “And will Jisung be accompanying us on the mission, General?”

Somehow, Minhyung knew that answering this incorrectly would lead to Jaemin’s unwavering refusal to join them.

“Yes,” he responded, mentally celebrating when Jaemin’s expression lightened. “Though I am not sure how we will be able to continue today without our horses.”

“Worry not,” the sorcerer twirled to face Jisung, a gentle smile evident on his handsome visage. “The trees have notified me where they are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Footnotes**   
>  _2\. Hanbok: Literally means "Korean clothing". Refers to the clothing worn and developed during the Joseon dynasty period by the upper classes._
> 
> _3\. Gat: A hat worn (by men) along with hanbok during the Joseon period. Made from horse hair with a bamboo frame and is partly transparent black in color._
> 
> _4\. Muryeomja: Patterned, traditional curtains hung over windows in royal chambers and other traditional rooms. Muryeomja are parted in the middle and are generally rolled up and fastened with a loop during the daytime._
> 
> _5\. Sangtu: Topknot. This was the ordinary hairstyle of men during the Joseon Dynasty, especially among the noblemen and scholars. A sign of manhood as men would start to wear their hair into a topknot when they got married._
> 
> _6\. Hanseong: Previously known as Hanyang, Hanseong was the capital of Korea during the Joseon Period. Also known as modern-day Seoul._
> 
> ***
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated! 


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